Gene Therapy - Phan
by isthisjustphantasy
Summary: Phan AU: Mutant, and proud. Concept based X-Men but not really a crossover no characters from X-men included. You can absolutely read this with no prior knowledge of the movies/comics. Sci-fi, powers, adventure and a healthy dose of drama. Dan and Phil are both born with mutations that result in special powers, but not all mutations are accidental.
1. Prologue

Phil sits alone in the clearing. His eyes are screwed shut in concentration and his hands are resting upturned on his crossed legs. He's not sure whether this position actually makes it any easier, but it feels like it should. The first yellow-green buds of spring are appearing on the trees, and white snowdrops cluster around the base of the tall trees like drops of cream on fresh strawberries. Phil wishes there were strawberries here too. He ignores the rumbling in his stomach, and rises a little higher off the ground. He is hovering, his lower lip caught between his front teeth and his toes scrunched up inside his socks. He's a little cold, but he thinks that helps too. He gets too sleepy to concentrate when he's hot. The brisk air is keeping him alert, despite the hunger and the holes in his jacket.

He opens one eye to watch as a brown speckled sparrow flits past. He strains, and rises another inch. He hopes that, if he keeps practicing, one day he might be able to soar like the birds; rather than just levitate motionless a few feet off the ground.

It's hard work, this flying business, and eventually he flops down with a thump and lets out a sigh. He really is very hungry now. He misses his warm bed and the food smells from the kitchen. He misses the taste of bread, even. He's had nothing but stale crackers and melted chocolate digestives for three days now. He shivers. He wishes he'd had time to dig his winter coat out of the loft. His Thomas the Tank Engine pyjama bottoms are not at all warm, and his socks do little to protect his feet from the cold ground and sharp stones that litter the forest floor.

He wonders if they are looking for him yet. They won't find him. He has his hiding place carefully constructed: it's a hole in the side of the river bank where a tree has fallen, lifting its roots high into the air and leaving an earthy cavity behind it. Phil had only found it by accident when chasing an otter down the stream, but it is impossible to see from the ground. They would have to wade right out into the water, and Phil doesn't think they'd care about him quite that much. It's March, and the water is still very cold.

He scrapes at the ground with a stick. He had hoped to find berries and things in the forest, but it's not really spring yet. All the sensible animals are still asleep. He wishes he could crawl up in his little cave and sleep until the summer comes, when he won't be so cold at night and there'll be apples on the trees. Or maybe there wouldn't be, Phil's not so sure apples grow in the wild after all.

He had taken a small knife from the kitchen drawer, planning to adjust to the wild and hunt animals for their meat and their fur, but now he's out here he isn't so sure he likes that idea. There aren't a lot of animals. They're all very small and very fast and very friendly looking. One morning he'd woken up eye to eye with a small field mouse, and his first thought had been to reach out and pet it. Phil doesn't really make a very good hunter.

He sighs again, pulling himself reluctantly to his feet. He can't fly yet, so he'll have to walk. He doesn't want to go too far from his hideout, but he really does need to find some food soon. Maybe he'll stumble across a cottage in the woods. There will be a friendly farmer and his wife, and they'll cook him a big stew with lots of fresh bread and plenty of greens too. There will be a dog – no, two dogs – and perhaps a ginger cat asleep in front of the stove. They won't have any children, so they'll take Phil in and look after him, at least until he's big enough to go to the city. Phil thinks maybe he'll go to London. That's where people go, after all. If there are people like him anywhere in England, he's sure they'll be in London.

He'll hide his power from the farmers at first, Phil decides, as he doesn't want to scare them off. But bit by bit, as time goes on, he'll slowly break it to them and they'll love him just the same as before. They live in a forest, so they've got no way of calling any People anyway. Phil is smiling to himself as he walks. He can't wait to meet them, but mostly he is looking forward to that stew. And the dogs.

He is so caught up in his fantasy that he doesn't notice the path until he is walking on it. He slows warily. He'd tried to stay off the paths that wind their way through these woods, because grown-ups always walk on the paths. If his parents are looking for him, then they will be on one of these dirt tracks. Then again, the farmers will have a path up to their house. He can't avoid them forever if he's going to have any hope of getting supper. Decision made, he sets of cautiously placing one socked foot in front of the other and tiptoeing. Like a mouse. He smiles again.

He wonders if there are any mice out there that can fly like him. If so, he hopes he finds them so they can be friends. They could fly together, perhaps, but there's a little voice inside Phil's head that is shaking its head in disapproval. Phil has a horrible feeling that the real reason he wants to find other things that fly is so that he can give them to the People, and the People will stick needles in the mice instead of him.

As he walks, Phil scratches habitually at the large black 'X' on the back of his hand.


	2. The View from the Window

Dan awoke groggy and confused. Blackness faded into light through many shades of grey, and even once his eyes were open he still struggled to shake his vision into clarity. His head felt like a thick fog had settled over it. He fought back the murkiness of unconsciousness and focused on one fact at a time. He was lying down in a bed staring up at a white ceiling. He dragged his eyes down to scan the room. The walls were a pale blue and they were bare, bar a small sash window. He could see only blue sky outside, so he guessed he was pretty high up. The bed sheets were white and there was a chair in one corner. If it hadn't been for the lack of medical equipment, Dan would have assumed he was in a hospital. The room was so lifeless, so bleak, that his first thought was that he was in a psychiatric ward and he tensed automatically, straining against the imaginary restraints that held him down.

There was a table by his bedside with a lamp, a piece of paper, and a small metal box resting on its surface. Tentatively, Dan shifted onto his side. There was no pain and he relaxed a little, reaching for the square of paper.

Press the call button on the transmitter when you wake.

Dan picked up the grey transmitter. It looked like a radio, with a microphone and a push to talk button on the side. The call button was in the centre of the device and he hovered his thumb over it before changing his mind. He wanted to get a better idea of what was going on before he alerted the people who had brought him here that he was conscious. He climbed out of bed and was a little perturbed to see that he had been clothed in a pale grey pyjama suit. Where were his clothes? And who had undressed him while he was out cold? He felt shaky on his feet and wondered how long he had been sleeping.

The door was locked, and a trickle of unease fell slowly down his spine. He tried the window, but that too was shut fast. He was four or five floors up, somewhere in the countryside. There was grass at the bottom of the building, and then a high, threatening looking wall with metal spikes bristling at its peak. Beyond the wall, there were trees. Dan turned back around and sat down on the edge of the bed while he tried to piece his mind together.

His name was Dan Howell, that much he was sure of. He knew how to read, obviously, and he knew things. It was a strange feeling. He knew that the bed was called a bed, but he couldn't remember ever being taught the word. In fact, he couldn't remember anything at all before he woke up just a few minutes earlier.

He must have been to school, he decided, because of the whole reading thing. And, of course, because he knew what a school was and how it worked. He had a defined picture of school in his mind. So why didn't he remember going? He scratched his head. To say it was disconcerting would be an understatement, however he didn't feel particularly upset. He felt numb, he decided, which was probably a very bad sign. He was nowhere near fully comprehending his situation, so his body and mind were coping by shutting out all emotion. It was doing a pretty good job of it, too, aside from his left hand, which was just beginning to tremble. A sick feeling in his stomach, Dan reached for the call button.

Nothing happened.

He lay back against the headboard and turned the transmitter over in his hands. Had he pressed the wrong button? Should he say something into the microphone? Before he could make up his mind however, he heard the sound of footsteps outside the door. The lock clicked. He held his breath. He was half expecting an elderly doctor in a white lab coat so was relieved when two very ordinary looking women poked their heads cautiously round the door.

The lady in front, tall, with auburn hair scraped back into a bun, stepped into the room.

"Hello," she said gently. "My name's Madeline. How are you feeling?"

Dan shrugged. He wasn't sure he trusted himself to speak yet, and was a little scared of what his voice would sound like.

"Are you in pain at all?" Madeline asked.

Dan shook his head.

"Okay, so that's a good start. You've probably got a lot of questions, so I'm going to do my best to give you a bit of a rundown of what happened to you. Do you mind if we sit down?"

Madeline walked forwards without waiting for an answer and perched on the edge of the bed, while the other woman settled herself in the chair. They both looked a little nervous, and were watching him intently and speaking very slowly.

"This building is run by a team united over a common cause," Madeline began. "We set out three days ago on what we intended to be a rescue mission. We broke into a secure facility and freed you and four others who were being held captive in the vault we found. I'll be honest with you, we were unable to find out much about it before the mission - we just marched blindly into the complex in search of anyone restrained or behind a locked door. Our first mistake. We shouldn't have attempted anything that risked lives without a full understanding of what was going on in there, because as soon as we'd got you outside the perimeter something triggered a little capsule inserted into your skull. A chemical was released and your memory was wiped. Obviously you're the only person at the moment who knows to what extent. It wasn't pretty, I'm sure you can imagine that you all had a very unpleasant experience. I believe it was intensely painful too, although the pain might have been mental. After about ten minutes of screaming, we made the decision to give you a dose of a strong anaesthetic to put you into a deep and dreamless sleep for a few days. We brought you here, and waited for you to wake up, in the hope that it would slow down the realisation process and help you better come to terms with it."

"So," Dan said slowly (his voice sounded strange, but not unpleasant). "Your 'rescue mission' left me without any memories. At all. Completely blank."

Madeline shifted uncomfortably. "As far as we can tell, but that kind of technology was a big surprise to us. We don't think it could possibly be absolute. We believe that there's a very good chance that most of your memory will come back over time."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't, I'm afraid. We've got various documentation and video footage that will hopefully be able to convince you, but we want to take the rehabilitation process as slowly as possible and avoid showing you that right away."

"But you've locked me up, too. It doesn't seem much like a rescue." Dan folded his arms protectively across his chest.

The other lady, shorter and with platinum blonde hair, cut in. "Trust me, you're in a better place. We took pictures of how we found you, you can see them if you want but like Maddy said we've been advised to take it slow in case it triggers painful memory recall. My Name's Jodie, by the way." She pushed her hair back behind her ear and leant forwards earnestly, her expression sincere.

"Two of the captives were in a sorry state," she began, her tone sombre. "Multiple scars and lacerations, very obvious experimentation. You were the only one without any injuries. We found you separate from the others, in a solid metal box, suspended in the air by cast iron full body restraints. God knows why," she laughed uncertainly. "That's part of the reason we locked you in, actually. We were a little worried about why they felt the need to do that. Also because we didn't want you wandering about in a strange building with no clue who you were or where we were, we figured you might end up hurting yourself or panicking. We'll leave the door unlocked as soon as we're sure you're not a danger to yourself or others, and that's a promise."

It was a lot to take in, and Dan ran it slowly through his protesting mind. He breathed slowly, staring at the plain wall. After a moment, he spoke again. "Okay. So for now I'm just going to blindly accept that what you say is true. What happens now?"

Madeline made to put a comforting hand on Dan's shoulder, but changed her mind. She went for his knee instead and looked him in the eye.

"We can't even begin to imagine how you're feeling right now. I'm sorry it all came down at once like this, but we decided that the most important thing for you to know was why you were here, which also happened to be the most difficult thing to explain.

"You're in a slightly secret facility in rural Devon. We're not quite government, but we've got a bunch of professionals. The first thing that's going to happen, with your consent, is a health check. We want to make sure you're okay – that they weren't doing anything to the inside of you, or that there's no medication you should be taking or whatever. We don't know anything about you and neither do you, you could easily have diabetes or something similar. After that, we're going to hopefully be bringing you up to speed with the current state of affairs. We're really not sure how much knowledge based memory you retained, so we're going to be working with you to get you comfortable. Sorry, do you remember your name?"

"Dan. Dan Howell. I'm pretty sure I'm seventeen, if that helps."

"That's brilliant," Madeline beamed. "I'm not going to lie to you, we thought it would be a lot worse. We were really scared about what we might have done to you."

"What happens after that? Why were we in that place and why did you come get us?" Dan asked, decidedly not accepting her round-about apology.

"That's a lot of questions, and not necessarily ones we have answers to yet." Madeline murmured.

"As soon as possible we want to reunite you with the other captives," Jodie said. "We feel that the recovery will be a lot easier when you're not alone in it, but at the same time we don't want to rush into it for fear of triggering a massive onslaught of memories, which wouldn't be a pleasant experience."

Dan nodded. "Are any awake yet?"

"You're the first," Madeline smiled. "Hence our nervousness. We didn't know what to expect, especially since you were the one all chained up. For all we knew you breathed fire!"

Dan snorted. "Sounds like that would have been pretty useful, huh."

"I'll say," Madeline grinned. "I've met a lot of mutants, but never someone who could manipulate fire. Now that's impressive."

"I'm sorry, what?" Dan blinked.

Madeline's smile faded. "Oh. I supposed that makes sense."

"What makes sense?" Dan asked angrily.

"That they would wipe that bit," Madeline explained. "It's not really common knowledge yet, so they could get away with it. You wouldn't be out of place if you escaped and tried to find your way."

"What bit?!"

Madeline exchanged a glance with Jodie. "This is, we believe, the reason you were being experimented on. In the last fifty-odd years more and more people are being born with particularly substantial mutations. I'm talking about the sort of mutations that result in babies with four arms and tails and stuff, only even more extreme. Think super powers."

"You're having a laugh." Dan said disbelievingly.

"Afraid not." Madeline said grimly.

Dan's gaze turned to Jodie, who had got to her feet and now had her eyes closed. As Dan watched, Madeline gestured to the clock on the wall.

"Figured it out yet?"

"It's stopped ticking," Dan said, aghast.

Madeline nodded. "She can only hold it for a few minutes and it requires all her concentration, but it's pretty handy in a tight situation. My turn. Do you see the vase of flowers on the window ledge?"

Dan nodded.

"What flowers?"

He blinked. "Where did they go?"

"They didn't go anywhere. They were never here; I can place an image in someone's mind – or rather, alter the one they're already seeing. Which means that as long as there's only one person in the room, I can turn invisible."

Dan let out a low whistle. "That's amazing. But what's it got to do with me? With us?"

"Mutants are still a massive minority. Most of the rest of the world don't know we exist, and on the most part we hide our abilities. The facility we rescued you from was what we believe to be a government funded research lab. They were trying to figure out the precise mutations in the DNA coding that created these powers, and so for that reason we believe that the five of you are mutants. We reckon you have powers of some sort, and that you were rounded up by these scientists and experimented on. We spoke to you briefly before your memory was wiped, and you'll have to take our word for it that you wanted to be rescued. We got the impression that the experiments weren't exactly humane."

"Sorry about all the dialogue," Jodie apologised. The clock had resumed its melancholy ticking and she settled herself on the edge of Dan's bed. "It's a lot to take in. Now we know you're not going to burst into flames on us though, we'd like to move you to a different room – one that's a little less bare – and then you can see the doctors. You're still working off that anaesthetic though so don't be afraid to let whoever you're working with know that you need a quick nap. Most importantly we don't want to overstrain you or push you to do things you don't want to. Okay?"

"Okay," Dan said, but he didn't feel okay. A lot to take in? It was like trying to swallow a small bus. Dan gulped, before getting shakily to his feet and following the two women out of the room.


End file.
